Bookmark #531

The wild tempest last night gave way to skies so clear they persisted till midday. Even the sky compensates for lost time. I wonder, then, what prevents us from forgiving ourselves? But then, I wonder of many things over the day, and then, I leave the thought there and then like you leave some stuff in an old apartment. It is no compulsion to take all we think seriously or along with us. We can leave thoughts where we meet them. Opposed to what many people may imagine when they read, if they read, these words, I rarely think about things at length. All my observation is a passing thought. And then, some things keep coming back, and I know they are formative ideas of my personality, but all else can be changed on a whim. All people are capable of change if they learn to keep their beliefs and thoughts down on the ground, stretch their shoulders and crack their backs. Then, they can see it all for what it is: a cumbersome bother. Most of what we believe can be left on a bench in a park like you leave a lover you don’t see a future with—it may hurt at the moment, and it may confuse you for a bit, but it is also the only right thing to do.

We do not come with guarantees of conviction. There is rarely any obligation for us to think tomorrow what we think today. But, of course, there are certain parts to it. There are things to us that we cannot leave behind, like we cannot leave an old habit or a preference for food. And we must know these things, and they must be few. Everything else is fair game. Everything else can be washed clean off us. I used to think time was running out, that I must make up my mind about who I wanted to be as early as possible to get somewhere. And at some point, it occurred to me that it was not very interesting. And so, I decided to keep my mind and my door open for all possibilities of who I could be, at least in thought. Now, I know time runs out, and I don’t much care. It is earlier, much earlier, for all of us. It will only be late when we’re all dead.